'I was thinking,' she said in some confusion, feeling hot colour wash upwards to her hairline.
'Your eyes are the brightest green I've ever seen,' murmured, a hand lazily reaching out to touch her flushed cheek.
She jumped back from that contact, looking away.
'Thanks for the lift, I'd better find my father,' she muttered, grabbing for the door handle and opening the car.
Josh didn't argue; he swung round in his own seat and got out, too, facing her across the top of the car. 'You won't find him in the house.
He'll have left the key under a flowerpot on the kitchen window-sill, though, so you can get in easily enough. I'll show you.'
'Where has Dad gone?' she asked, frowning as she hurried to keep up with his stride.
'He's up on Windacre Hill, mending walls.'
'Oh, of course, I'd forgotten! Stupid of me, I don't know how I came to forget that.'
Josh gave her a wry look. 'Something else on your mind?' The softly murmured words had an insinuating quality which made Prue uneasy.
They reached the back of the house, and Josh picked up a flowerpot on the window-sill and retrieved the key lying there.
'Thank you,' Prue said stiffly, reaching for it, but he was already at the back door, fitting the key into the lock. 'I can manage now,' she insisted, but he took no notice, pushing the door open and waving her into the house. She didn't quite like to slam the door in his face, so he followed her inside, closing the outer door behind him, and Prue's nerves leapt violently.
'Well, thank you,' she said, not wishing to be rude to him when he had taken so much trouble to be helpful, yet rather edgy about being alone with him again in the empty house. Whenever they were alone together, she felt this strange sensation: a mixture of heat and rage she didn't understand. She could not reason herself out of it; the chemical reaction was explosive, she felt it happening inside her now, an energy which built up until the pressure of it had terrible force. She had never known anything like it before and it disturbed her.
'He won't be back until it's dark,' Josh said coolly, totally unaware of what she felt, thank heavens.
That's OK, it doesn't matter, I'll be all right,' she muttered, avoiding his much too observant eyes.
'Why not come home with me and have tea with my mother?'
She shook her head. 'Thank you, but...'
'She'd be very glad to see you!'
'I really must do some washing and ironing,' Prue said, a chilliness creeping into her voice at the very mention of Mrs Killane.
He watched her, a black frown drawing his brows together. 'What have you got against my mother?'
The attack was abrupt and unexpected, and her eyes lifted, wide and startled.
'Wh-why . . . what makes you think I. . .'
'Your face changes every time she's mentioned. Do you think you can hide dislike? You can't, you know—not if it's strong enough, and you really don't like my mother, do you?'
Prue was as pale now as she had been flushed. 'No, I don't—and I'm sure you know why!' she snapped.
'You tell me,' he said quietly, the lines of his face taut and angular.
'Don't pretend you don't know all about it! You're not stupid, and if a stranger like me can see it so clearly, then you must have noticed it years ago!'
'What are we talking about? What can you see so clearly?'
She took a fierce breath, trembling with anger. 'Your mother—and my father!'
'Ah,' he said, his eyes black ice.
'I know about them! My mother told me the whole story, and when I saw them together, after I got here, I knew she had told me the truth, and you must know all about it, too. You couldn't be that blind!'